<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Restoration, no questions asked, only a little judgment by Searofyr</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27353086">Restoration, no questions asked, only a little judgment</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Searofyr/pseuds/Searofyr'>Searofyr</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Born to uncertain parents, something about dragons, way too early [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls Online</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Dark Brotherhood (Elder Scrolls) - Freeform, Established Relationship, M/M, Slice of Life, Vampires, Werewolves</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-09 03:28:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>12,435</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27353086</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Searofyr/pseuds/Searofyr</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>From the journal of Lothryn Simero, House Telvanni. Abah’s Landing, Anvil 2E.</p><p>If you study Restoration magic for the sake of finding immortality and you’re in House Telvanni, chances are your research includes unusual venues. Even if you just act as a local healer. Especially if you just act as a local healer. <br/>This is a collection of Nerevarine Lothryn’s forays into the murkier and more embarrassing cases during an almost slow time in his life. <br/>Almost.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clavicus Vile/Original Female Imperial Character(s), Divayth Fyr/Nerevarine, Elam Drals/Original Female Dunmer Character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Born to uncertain parents, something about dragons, way too early [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1997554</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Raven of Midnight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>We’re in Abah’s Landing. Divayth is hunting after some artefact that he’s got next to no clues on, but one of them led us here. So I’ve set up temporary shop in one of our inn rooms for some extra coin and a chance at research with willing, paying subjects nobody is going to ask all that much about.</p><p>We have a private room in a better and more secluded area, for actually living in and having a private life, and a public one in a disreputable part of town – kidding, every part of this town is disreputable. But a particularly disreputable one. In an inn whose owners don’t care if you set up businesses in your rooms, which is of course heartily exploited by the tenants. Needless to say, most of the businesses here are not like my little Restoration magic niche, although I guess you could say some of them restore the spirits of their customers, and as for the skooma… Well, skooma is always indefensible. I prefer the presence of the other kinds of ladies and gentlemen. In entirely platonic fashion, in case it needs saying.</p><p>But business tends to overlap, with night workers and criminal elements both, which is part of what I’m banking on. I’m the one they go to with the things that need healing or correcting that they don’t want to take to the Mages Guild or any of the assorted available temples. Less scrutiny of the causes means less scrutiny of my methods means less bureaucratic meddling. And authorities are always prejudiced against House Telvanni. Always. Whether for good reason, I’ll leave for the esteemed reader to judge.</p><p> </p><p>Sometimes you wonder though. You wonder.</p><p>Today a young Redguard couple came in, by which I mean the gentleman was carrying the unconscious lady, who had a badly bandaged neck and was still losing blood.</p><p>“For fuck’s sake”, is how I greeted him, and told him to put her down on the bench.</p><p>The story could wait, law enforcement, too, if necessary – my advertisement and the sign on the door say “no questions asked”, but in my experience the clients feel the need to explain themselves before I can even get a word in. And sometimes consequences are necessary. Even in this part of town.</p><p>I stopped the bleeding with a spell, took off the bandage, inspected the wound – knife or dagger cut or something to that effect. Closed it with a spell, took some extra effort not to leave a scar cause that poor lady didn’t need to live with whatever someone’d done to her.</p><p>Numbed the pain somewhat that she’d feel when she woke up. But she was still faint. I was trying to think of what best to do about this, when the gentleman started volunteering their story. They always do.</p><p>“We read it in a novel,” he said.</p><p>I closed my eyes, inhaled deeply, exhaled. So it was both their fault; one should never have the slightest trust in one’s clients; one’s always disappointed. So this was going to be good. Or disastrous, depending on one’s angle. “In a novel,” I repeated.</p><p>“A… A vampire novel. You know… <em>That</em> kind of vampire novel.”</p><p>This was going to be very good and very disastrous. “That kind of vampire novel?”</p><p>“Oh, you know… ‘Raven of Midnight’?”</p><p>“Can’t say I’ve heard of it.”</p><p>He looked around as if anyone was going to listen in. “My cousin is enlisted with the Covenant army up in Rivenspire. They’ve got these… Novelisations… Imaginings… of the Count of Ravenwatch’s life. It’s really popular up there. He sent me some. It’s a series. Anyway, Jariya and I were going to try… You know. But I’m not a vampire, and we decided I couldn’t just bite her. I don’t… Have the fangs, you know?”</p><p>“Clearly,” I said. “That makes sense. I suppose.” It’s important to stay completely serious at all times. Some of them make that challenging.</p><p>“Right? So I took my dagger. Cause it’s the sharpest blade we own, you know? And the sharper the less pain, they always say. And then… I was just going to make a little cut, and drink a little of her blood, but it seems I got it wrong, and…”</p><p>“Seems so, yeah. Let me see the dagger.”</p><p>He blinked. Handed me the dagger.</p><p>I ran the usual detection spells over it. “Normal dagger,” I said and handed it back to him, “nothing to worry about. That makes this easier. I’ve got a brew here somewhere… Or is it back at…”</p><p>“Normal dagger?” He still held it in his hands as if I’d turned it into a serpent.</p><p>“No magic, no enchantments, no poison, nothing Daedric, nothing that’ll change her blood or keep asking for more, or any of that stuff. Good for you. Good for her. You can put it away.”</p><p>He did with trembling hands.</p><p>“Now…”</p><p> </p><p>The door opened, and Divayth entered, surveyed the room and the lady on the bench with the bloody bandages still next to her. “Emergency?”</p><p>“Yeah. But this is convenient, good you’re here. Do we still have those Double Bloody Mara potions somewhere, or can you make one? These two fools here were playing vampire, with a dagger.”</p><p>Divayth raised an eyebrow. “I see your day is more interesting than mine. I’ll get you a supply.” He vanished through a portal.</p><p>The young Redguard just stared.</p><p>“A convenient potion for blood loss,” I explained. “Works even on real vampires. She needs to get something like blood in her again, and this speeds it up.”</p><p> </p><p>With the potion procured and the maiden woken up and fed and looking less like a thrall or a corpse, I sat them both down for a talk. “So. Either you two never want to hear about vampires again, or you’re going to try again. Which is it? It’s going to be the second, isn’t it? People are people.”</p><p>The maiden gave a sheepish grin. Now it was the gentleman that looked paler than her.</p><p>“Alright,” I said. “For the benefit of both or either of you. Listen and watch closely.” I pointed at different parts of her neck. “This is where you cut. This is where you never ever cut. And don’t use a fucking dagger. Invest in a good normal knife if you don’t have that at home. And after the first drops of blood, you seal that up. You know any healing spells, either of you?”</p><p>She shook her head. “Our families… They’re traditional Redguards. You know….”</p><p>“Right. No magic. Well, if you’re going to play vampire, you’ll need some simple healing spells. Ready to learn? This lesson is free of charge, I don’t want anyone dead cause of negligence.”</p><p>The lady, Jariya, froze and then nodded decisively. With a bit of a gleam in her eye. The gentleman, I still hadn’t caught his name and didn’t care to, looked doubtful but then sighed and agreed. Looks like he’s regretting showing her his cousin’s books by now.</p><p> </p><p>Not a spectacular day. Nothing new learned, except that King Emeric should consider banning vampire books for the good of his subjects.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. A job unfinished</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Got another lady with stab wounds today. Not self- or lover-inflicted this time.</p><p>One of my own: Dunmer. Looked a bit younger than me, or maybe my age with more of an effort put into youthful appearance, but not entirely young as such. Had the kinds of lines in her face that told you she’d seen some things you don’t want to see, sharply cut laughing lines around her eyes but in the state she was in, those eyes were dull and tired and strained. Paired with a face that could have been soft under other circumstances. Maybe with a different inhabitant. And you could see the pain she was in in every twitch and flicker in her face.</p><p>I brought her in, and not yet through the door, she asked, “So, how discreet are you?”</p><p>“You don’t have to worry,” I said. “At least not about that. Come in, let me take a look.”</p><p>She winced as if the next thing was even harder to say, and I bet it was, too: “They took my money… I can arrange something, but I don’t know yet how…”</p><p>“Don’t worry about that,” I said cause I’m too soft. “We’ll figure something out later. And if not, I’ll live. Now let’s make sure you live, too.”</p><p>“Thanks,” she said with barely a voice and finally came in.</p><p> </p><p>Several stab wounds I cleaned up and healed with spells. I wasn’t happy with the results yet though. Some of those cuts had been deep.</p><p>Also interesting: When she undressed, there was a bloody partly serrated dagger among the items taken off.</p><p>So an assassin with a contract gone wrong.</p><p>“Do you have to go back out there, or can you rest up now?” I asked.</p><p>She frowned. Wondering how much to say, most likely.</p><p>I added, “That’ll decide how we go on. You’re not completely healed yet. This’ll be best with time, and rest, and more spells, probably some potions and salves and wraps, whatever I can cook up, but in my opinion it’s good sometimes to let some healing happen naturally. A mage is never quite as smart as nature is. But if you need to get back out and finish something, and something hard from the look of it, I’ve got to go for the heavy measures and be quick about it. But that can mean some long term weaknesses.”</p><p>“Like what?”</p><p>“Like stiffness, pain maybe, that can be a distraction in the wrong moment. I don’t want to opt for that unless I really have to.”</p><p>“That would be bad.” She still had the twitches showing pain around her forehead. Not good at all.</p><p>“Can you have someone else finish it up? Or is that a problem?”</p><p>She bit her lip, pondering. “I don’t know.” Pondered some more. “Maybe I could ask. But I’d have to get home first.”</p><p>“Alright, let me think about what I’ll do for you,” I said. Slippery slope that. But I found myself wanting to help. Still, more information would be good. “Tell you what. I’ll give you a potion that will take care of the pain. Strong one, I bet you’re used to taking these things somewhat frequently. Right?”</p><p>“Might be.”</p><p>“Might be is a yes. Alright. Then I’ll fix up some of the deeper damage with magic. But I want you to stay aware if you can. Talk to me. Don’t want you slipping into unconsciousness and out of my grasp. Alright? No knife, promise, just magic.”</p><p>“Alright,” she said.</p><p>Bit too trusting for an assassin, but I wanted to be trustworthy here. So maybe she’d just made a good judgment call.</p><p> </p><p>When under the influence of both the potion and the spells, she muttered, “You’re alright with this line of work then.” Not as a question.</p><p>“I am. It’s not for me, but I’m more of a scholar. And the trappings.” Dunmer. But out here. What was she? “I’ve never liked spiders. And to be honest, I’m terrified of Sithis. Doesn’t leave much.”</p><p>I saw a small twitch around her lips. “I don’t like spiders either.”</p><p>“Ah,” I said. Understood. “I once helped out a colleague of yours in Murkmire. With a property dispute. She was a kind of… Judiciary advisor in town.”</p><p>There was a real smile at last, still a bit pained but much less so. “A Shadowscale then?”</p><p>“Yeah. Serving Sithis in, I suppose, age-appropriate ways.”</p><p>“That sounds nice. A nice retirement. I should… suggest that to someone. Wonder if that’s attainable for our kind, too.”</p><p>So she had another Dunmer at her side, and Brotherhood, too.</p><p>“If not,” I said, concentrating on the spell for a while, then continuing, just to have conversation going, “my partner and I plan to live long, and we can always use assistants for our research, I’m sure. Bet you two would bring interesting skills to the table. But don’t bring the whole… Family down on our heads, I wouldn’t appreciate that.”</p><p>She smiled, then sunk into her own thoughts. I left her there for a while as I continued my work.</p><p>At last she asked, “Is this a one-time favour, discretion and all, or do you think I could come back?”</p><p>“You can come back. Don’t kill anyone important to me, and we’re good.”</p><p>“And if I brought someone important to me, would that…”</p><p>“You’d all be safe.” I was doing something very lacking in caution here.</p><p>She nodded. “You would, too. We can afford some… protection, too. Unofficially, of course.”</p><p>“Of course. So who’s your target? Or what kind of target?”</p><p>“A merchant lord. Drove up the fees for souvenir stalls down by the docks. Someone didn’t like that.”</p><p>I had to grin. “As good a reason as any. And I’m not involved with any merchant lords. So go ahead. No objections.”</p><p>“How gracious of you.”</p><p>“Isn’t it?”</p><p>She hummed in thought.</p><p>“Where do you operate?” I asked, relying on the double effect of potion and spells to get her to talk more.</p><p>“Gold Coast,” she said, clearly drifting further and further into a daze.</p><p>“Gold Coast,” I repeated. “My apprentice mentioned something about your group’s work there. Cyrodiil’s her home, and I was at least raised there, probably born, too, who knows? So we’ve both got an interest in its well-being. Anyway, she said, ‘Who would have thought out of all regions, the Gold Coast would be the first to gain back some semblance of order?’ So you see your work’s got some admirers.”</p><p>She gave me a faint smile. Then I saw the exact moment it dawned on her that she’d talked too much and the panic set in.</p><p>“Now don’t worry,” I said, probably hastily, “I’m not selling you out. On the contrary. You’re my patient, and you did good work with your group, and what you did made my apprentice happy, so I want to help you. Treatment’s on me this time.”</p><p>She relaxed a little. Exhaled. “Thank you.” A pause.</p><p>“Go ahead,” I said.</p><p>“Would you know how I could get home? You’re a mage, do you have ties to the Mages Guild, or do you know a Tribunal Temple, or…”</p><p>“Unfortunately no. House Telvanni. We don’t usually keep these kinds of contacts. And I can’t do portals, if that’s what you mean, or at least I’m notoriously bad at them. And you’re still injured and maybe a target; I don’t want to risk anything. But my partner’s good at them. In fact, he excels at them. If you’re alright with someone else knowing, we’ll get you back to your region, as close as you want and want to trust us.”</p><p>She took a deep breath and let it out again. “Thank you. I’ll take you up on that offer then. Would you mind if I don’t tell you my name?”</p><p>“I’ve got some familiarity with that. Don’t worry.”</p><p>“Then…”</p><p>“Then now you sleep. I’ve got you, don’t worry about your consciousness. In a few hours, we wake you up and take you back. I’ll consult. Might even take someone else back over here if it’s quick. But I need to ask first. We’re compromising ourselves, after all.”</p><p>“Thank you,” she whispered and soon was out like a light.</p><p> </p><p>This whole episode got me nothing new on the research front, and instead raised eyebrows from Divayth, who expressed his amusement that I couldn’t be content to keep my shady clientele on the level of pickpockets and the professional ladies of this very respectable inn I’m working in, and also asked, already guessing the answer, “Do you have any idea who you’ve got here?”</p><p>And of course he had just that idea. Turns out this lovely lady in over her head was the Gold Cost set’s new Silencer.</p><p>Divayth shook his head but never lost the smile, and so he took her back to the care of her fellow Dunmer associate, and soon after both her and the associate back over here to finish the job. About which I mentioned that Abah’s Landing was a challenge for even the most hardened criminal elements these days, and required unusual methods.</p><p>I discreetly offered a gaseous poison I’d developed recently, somewhat by accident, that I said I’d be glad to have tried out on a large sample, such as a disproportionately high number of guards. A favour for research and progress, if you will. They took me up on the offer, or did Research and Progress the favour, depending on your perspective.</p><p>I also mentioned that the drug to heal the stab wounds had been another of my own concoctions and had a side effect of loosening the tongue, but my patient had been remarkably discreet given the circumstances, and only gained them a potential alliance.</p><p>The assassins both looked somewhat annoyed at that, but the associate promised none of this would be held against my patient, and I promised none of this would leave this room. They were content enough at this.</p><p>As a courtesy, this record will not hold their names.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Side-effects of a blessing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Alright, so I asked a few more questions than ‘none’ that time. I should stop doing that.</p><p>But I had to know how much extra help I could offer them without it coming back to bite me and my own, and it has gotten me a string of patient visits as a result. Seems the ladies and gentlemen of the Brotherhood could overlook this bit of indiscretion and liked the overall results.</p><p> </p><p>So today, something unusual on top of the usual unusual. A werewolf with ear pain.</p><p>She came with my Dunmer acquaintances and a big Nord, herself a somewhat diminutive Nord and looking miserable. No introductions were made, as per custom. They’d gone through quite a bit of trouble to get her here, too, deals with reluctant Mages Guild members to get over here via portal. Apparently she’d turned once and caused some mayhem, but they’d managed to bring her here.</p><p> </p><p>Turned out it always got worse with shifts and after shifts and then she’d snap and shift again and try to maul someone or something.</p><p>I worked a beginning spell on her, start the healing process, take away some of the pain. The Dunmer lady said they’d already had that done at home, but it didn’t work; next shift it was all back again.</p><p>“Interesting,” I said, “I’ve never worked with werewolves before. So something stays in the werewolf form that needs taking care of separately. So I guess you haven’t taken her to someone to cure the wolf part, too? Nobody to trust?”</p><p>“That’s why we’re in Abah’s Landing,” the lady said.</p><p>“Got it. Well, I’m flattered. Let’s see.” I worked some more tests and spells on the wolf girl. “Annoying, isn’t it. You heal one part, and then the next part brings it back again to the whole picture. Why can’t it be the other way around? You ought to have a talk with your Lord Hircine about that. If I got recurring ear pain from that blessing, I’d be questioning my commitment, not going to lie. Alright. Theoretically healed, if you were only human. I’d be telling you to drink some potions for a couple more days and lie low, and that’d be it. But that’s not it now. Question. When you transform, is the pain getting worse than in human form, or the other way around?”</p><p>The girl frowned. She’d been quietly putting up with the treatment and my prattling; model client; if only all of them could be like that. Or so I thought at the time.</p><p>“When I shift, it starts again. And my wolf form gets… aggravated. But when I shift back, then it’s worse. And a part of my state comes along. And so I shift back. But then, I can’t control it anymore.”</p><p>“Hmm. So it’s worse in human form actually, but the wolf part sure likes to spread its influence. Normally it’s more separate?”</p><p>“Yes,” she said. “When I shift back into human form, I am different from when I am a wolf. Now, it pulls me back.”</p><p>“Makes sense, too, different body set-up; it’d feel different. The influence part I can’t figure out yet. Too little experience with werewolves.” I exhaled. “Right. No way around it. You’ll have to transform for the rest of this. It’ll hurt, but I’m hoping to end the condition. Alright?”</p><p>She nodded. Looked around. “Here?”</p><p>“Good point.”</p><p> </p><p>I led her to the mostly unused backroom with less volatile stuff standing around. Told the others, “Anyone who can take it up with her in wolf form is welcome to come over and help out if need be. The rest of you, best stay back there.”</p><p>The Dunmer gentleman looked at me through eyes that did all the expressing for him cause he never took off that hood and mask of his. “Do <em>you</em> think you can take it up with a werewolf? Interesting. Well, we’ll see, won’t we?”</p><p>“Yeah, we’ll see.”</p><p>In the end they all joined but stayed close to the door. The Nord just a step closer inside the room, probably as a very effective display of trust or confidence. Right. Some assassins they are.</p><p>What can I say, the girl transformed and tore bloody gashes into my clothing and skin, did refrain from any outright biting or attempts at eating, which I appreciate. Then I finally got the restraining spell working. I can do one, in theory, just usually not when I’m in states of fear or hurry or panic, which is normally when you’d actually need them. But I managed.</p><p>While she tore at her magical bindings, I worked a number of healing spells on her, and while one was doing its job and I had to wait, I numbed the pain and took a moment to try to detect any links between her forms, or how the illness would manifest magically between them. Not enough time though; I hurried it up after all. Don’t want a docile young girl to be in pain any longer than she has to be, even when she’s currently a deadly creature with Hircine’s questionable blessing and trying to tear me and the room apart.</p><p>When the first spell was done, I continued with the chain of necessary magic to hopefully get this all done with.</p><p>I must have taken a while cause Divayth came in, surveyed my state and the room. “Need help?”</p><p>“I’ve got this,” I said. “I think. Hope.”</p><p>“Want me to stay?”</p><p>“…Yeah.”</p><p>He looked content at that and sat down in a corner with a book.</p><p> </p><p>I finally got all of the spells done. Then I turned to Divayth, who was by now engrossed in his book and not paying attention to what I was doing, which is a compliment.</p><p>“Almost done. But don’t transform yet,” I told the wolf, and addressed Divayth. “Hey.”</p><p>“What do you need?”</p><p>I explained the issue and the wolf form trying to reach over to the human one. “I guess it’s technically Daedric, so do you know anything about that?”</p><p>The Nord bristled now at anything weird being done to her, and insisted she was going to stay a werewolf.</p><p>Divayth shot him a look meant to shut him up and got up, observed the wolf for a while, probably ran a few tests, too. “She can turn back whenever you’re done with her.”</p><p>“Right, you can turn back now,” I said.</p><p>After a few attempts, she did, and I removed the restraining spell.</p><p>She looked exhausted but not in pain at first glance. “It’s gone,” she said. “Thank you.” Then she saw the state I was in and started to apologise.</p><p>I told her not to worry. Looked to Divayth.</p><p>He asked her, “You intend to remain a werewolf?”</p><p>“I do,” she said.</p><p>“Well, to each their own. What you need is restraint and separation. The wolf state is your crutch, and anything Daedric will latch onto such a perceived need and make use of it. No matter how benevolent you may think it. Use it, but stay in control. Come back tomorrow; I’ll have some literature ready for you to take home.”</p><p>She didn’t look too happy at first, but she’s a controlled sort overall, and maybe even sensible, werewolf choices aside. So she nodded at last. “I will read them. Thank you.” Turned to me. “And thank you.”</p><p>“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “You know, I’m not the expert, but I think you’ll be fine. You’ve got that level of restraint, that’s more than most. Of course ‘more than most’ isn’t always enough, and I guess, don’t take it for granted. But I’m impressed.”</p><p>She smiled a little.</p><p>“Is the pain gone? All the symptoms?”</p><p>She nodded.</p><p>“Alright. Watch it, you’ll be coming back tomorrow anyway. Anything more you need, we’ll take care of it.”</p><p>“I will tell you.” Then she looked at us both. “Will you move to the Gold Coast?”</p><p>Now that was unexpected. I turned to Divayth. “Would we? I’d consider it if you’d consider it.”</p><p>He looked amused. “Would you? Back to Cyrodiil?”</p><p>“Perhaps for a while. Not my home region but that’s not a bad thing anyway; I don’t think I want to see that for a while yet. Gold Coast is as different as can be. And I won’t lie, I like these people a lot better than the locals here.”</p><p>“Better set of criminals, you’re saying.”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“I’ll think about it. Perhaps if there’s something worthwhile for me to do there.” Gave me a thoughtful look. “I should find something. It’s your turn to choose. This here is turning out to be a dead end anyway.”</p><p>I turned back to the round, now paying attention to the other three again, too. “You all talk to whoever you need to, and see if this invitation makes sense, if you want to keep it up, and if it makes sense for us, too. You know your organisation better than us. We can talk about it tomorrow or any other time.”</p><p> </p><p>Next day.</p><p>She picked up the books, and the invitation was repeated, and we were assured it would not be to our disadvantage if we happened to set up shop in say, Anvil or Kvatch, and I was still willing to discreetly help out clients with unusual occupations.</p><p>Looks like we’re considering it.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. On Towers and Minotaurs 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Beautiful Cyrodiil. I’ve barely missed it at all. A bit, though; I can admit to that much.</p><p>So here we are at the Gold Coast. Right at the coast. You could say a certain way into the sea.</p><p>Our friends and clients, the ones whose organisation’s name and whose superiors’ titles reflect their concern with family values, have recently come into possession of a lighthouse by Anvil, by almost coincidental means. They have sold it to us for a symbolic sum via an intermediary party that would look less involved on paper should questions arise. Their reasoning being that it is almost a tower, and my partner’s and my Great House values towers as homes and work places. See, this is why it’s good to have friendly Dunmer in your client groups. They know what’s what.</p><p> </p><p>The main level doubles as a reception area and a casual living space to present to curious eyes. Further up, and in back rooms, are the treatment rooms and related storage and study spaces, less suited for the public. The actual private living quarters and private library are in the basement, under the sea level, very romantic in a way, and decidedly not for the public eye. I think I could get used to this.</p><p> </p><p>Divayth is reading a lot and sometimes follows leads to this and that. But mostly it’s a heavily study-oriented phase he’s in. For assorted reasons it’s more convenient not to mention details here. And I’ve got my Restoration office.</p><p>At first my only clients were from the friendly family business a little further inland, who were glad not to need portals anymore to come see me. Some minor wounds, some more major wounds, further werewolf complications (fascinating creatures once you start to get into it; I’ve never been interested in the whole Hircine and hunting business, but the transition between states and what it means for each, and for the mind of the afflicted, <em>that</em> is interesting).</p><p>The Dunmer gentleman once brought a somewhat interesting case of poisoning – him and his lady friend do have a penchant for that type of trouble, and sometimes you learn a new formula while trying to counteract it, sometimes blindly because it actually happens on the job. Sometimes it’s just a gourmet experiment gone wrong. I’m also learning that Tamriel is full of bored aristocrats and the chefs that cater to them. And that the other major clientele is thrill-seeking non-aristocratic manual workers of the problem-solving variety. If they ever get friendly enough to invite us to dinner, I’ll know to be prepared.</p><p> </p><p>All well and good, some minor progress in my overall research, but all in all more comfortable and pleasant than ground-breaking.</p><p>Until a new client arrived. One not associated with that group, however diverse it might be otherwise.</p><p>A Minotaur.</p><p>I’ll cut this entry short here since we can’t communicate properly with one another, and I have no idea what he actually wants from me. I can see that he’s in pain. The generic healing spells didn’t work. Before I try anything else, I need an idea of what’s going on.</p><p> </p><p>Divayth took a look at him, looked at me with a raised eyebrow, said, “You’ll have to tell your apprentice about this.”</p><p>“I will – once I actually have an idea what’s wrong and what I’m supposed to be doing. If a Minotaur dies on my watch, she’ll be unhappy.”</p><p>He scoffed. “Well, I don’t speak whatever it is that he does – if he speaks anything at all – but I can tell you a few things. Things were still different when I was younger. And I can find you literature if you’re really determined. Can help you translate it, too. The question is, do you want to invest the time?”</p><p>“I have to,” I said. “No choice.”</p><p>“You don’t, do you? Then I’ll help. Might even have something at our regular tower back home. I’ll take a portal, I won’t be long. Longest part will be digging through old forgotten parts of our library. Expect me back within the day. And keep him here.” He kissed me and went to the basement to make preparations before I could say another word.</p><p>So the Minotaur is now installed in the treatment room upstairs that serves as quarters for the cases when clients need to stay overnight.</p><p>I’ll look through our books that we’ve got here while I’m waiting for Divayth to return. And I already miss him to ridiculous degrees. Which has no bearing on the case as such, but he’ll be glad to see this when he browses my journals again.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. On Towers and Minotaurs 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Summing up a bit here. Divayth kept word and was back on the same day with a stack of tomes, (appreciated that I’d missed him,) and in the following days, in between checking on our client, through studying and learning the basics of communication and Divayth explaining me things you wouldn’t know in the Second Era, we got to a level of being able to figure out the issue.</p><p>So he’s a shaman. Those work with spirits. He’s a <em>beginner</em> shaman, just learning the ropes. Regrettably, the density of spirits who can fully understand him and vice versa is getting low in the area, and instead, there is a rising concentration of those spirits with whom miscommunication is bound to occur sooner or later.</p><p>He tried to summon a spirit of the land that was really a murdered Colovian noblewoman from a few decades ago, and that took terrible offence at something our poor friend must have said. So she cursed him.</p><p>What we then did with some preparation was to trudge back to the summoning place, summon her again, this time with competent assistance in summoning matters albeit not the Minotaur shaman way, and with translation aid and negotiation. (The things one does for one’s clients. And one’s apprentice enthusiastic about Minotaur rights in the Empire.)</p><p> </p><p>“Do you know what he called me?” the countess asked, not waiting for my answer. “A crowned mare! Can you imagine? How could I not curse him? Honour demands that I curse him!”</p><p>I turned to the Minotaur and explained the conundrum as well as I could, expressing my hope that he did not actually mean to call her a crowned mare.</p><p>As it turns out (as far as I could make out, at least), he did not. He meant to call her a lady of high importance. Got his words mixed up in an unfortunate manner.</p><p>After much supplication, the countess graciously forgave him and lifted the curse.</p><p>And he’s healed. I always like the cases best in which I don’t have to do anything myself.</p><p> </p><p>On the way back, I suggested that if he wants to be successful in this area with his shaman business, he’ll need to learn better Cyrodilic. He looked so sad at that, how the fuck do they do that? It’s the eyes, isn’t it? One moment you’re hoping you don’t make a wrong movement so they don’t snap you in two, next moment you want to fix the world that wronged them because they look so sad.</p><p>So since I’m not wise, I asked, “Do you want me to help? Or try, at least. I’m not too bad with languages. I just started learning yours, too.” Something like that. Tried in both languages, tried gestures.</p><p>In the end we agreed that he’d come over regularly for language exchange.</p><p> </p><p>Result: No revelations on the Restoration front as originally hoped, just a banal curse, but unexpected in into Minotaur culture and a chance to bring one or maybe several of them closer to local cultures of men and mer as a result. And Diesala won’t be mad at me, also important. She might even come over for this.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Just a status report from the relative void</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Cerovadus the Minotaur shaman comes over once or twice a week for language exchange. Diesala is extraordinarily pleased and joins when she can, and also roped her husband into it, saying this is an important breakthrough to any true Imperial patriot. He relented. I think without my direct involvement, this has been turned into a large-scale political operation in the making. Fine with me. She’s right about that much, Minotaurs deserve respect and education and normal participation in the Empire their ancestors helped build.</p><p>Inevitably, this has led to them all meeting the friendly Brotherhood regulars. Went over alright.</p><p>Then I caught something again and was out of commission for over a month, during which Diesala jumped in and did Minotaur language exchange for me. This being her, the lessons also included the basics of Nibenese court manners and whatnot as soon as communication allowed for that.</p><p>I’m just getting back on my feet. Good thing; if this was left in her hands for much longer, we’d be facing the next Emperor here.</p><p>Still, no patients yet, unless one of our friends has an emergency.</p><p>More later.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. New research opportunity</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It started with a social call by the Dunmer couple from our neighbourhood practical-problem-solving organisation.</p><p>From what they told, the mood in their sanctuary was abysmal, and so they’d feigned an adverse reaction to some delicacy they’d brought from their last job to flee the premises for the day, and if they could, the night. We do have that spare room, so not a problem.</p><p>Then their boss had noticed the gentleman of the pair had brought that same delicacy before and shared with the sanctuary, so the adverse reaction was unlikely. She’d said she doesn’t mind if they visit us on their off time as long as we aren’t ‘disloyal to the Brotherhood’.</p><p>I turned to Divayth at that, saying “We’re ‘loyal to the Brotherhood’ now.”</p><p>“Seems like it,” he said.</p><p>We shrugged and got out the sujamma that we’d brought over from our tower the other day; good timing. The wine that was left over here in the lighthouse basement is sour and barely drinkable. I’d been happy to see a rack of Colovian red, but it wasn’t to be. When he was here for Minotaur language exchange, Abnur was appalled at how it’d been stored and promised to find us a better source since he knows I’m a fan. He also took the time to give me a lesson on proper storage so we’d do better than the previous owner since in his eyes this is a crime.</p><p>Speaking of crime. Back on topic.</p><p> </p><p>So the four of us were drinking and exchanging work and private anecdotes; sujamma loosens the tongue. At some point the topic came to bizarre knife wounds, and I contributed the imitation vampire story.</p><p>In between, the lady said, “I always say, keep the knives out of the hands of amateurs. Or at least use a proper one.”</p><p>I said, “That’s what I tried to teach them, too. Leave it alone, or use a good knife, and I taught them a few things cause realistically, who ever leaves things alone after they’ve found them?”</p><p>We drank to that.</p><p> </p><p>I went on and mentioned the potion I’d had to give the willing victim of the fake vampire to compensate for the blood loss, and the nice bit of irony of giving her something that works on actual vampires.</p><p>The lady interrupted again. “You just said something interesting there. What’s that potion? Real blood somehow?”</p><p>“Actually no,” I said, and mentioned just the most basic traits and ingredients; no need to disclose too much of your secrets. “You interested for the Brotherhood? It’s expensive to make and takes forever, too, but we can find a deal about that. We also tend to keep something on hand; you never know. So if you have an emergency, you know where to find us usually.”</p><p>She grinned. “You never know, huh. But no, I mean, that does sound convenient, and we’ll probably take you up on that sooner or later, but what I mean is something else. So… You’re alright with werewolves. How about vampires? Actual vampires? Purely hypothetically for now.”</p><p>And I knew things were about to get interesting in my research.</p><p> </p><p>“Haven’t worked with any,” I said. “Haven’t even met any, as far as I can tell.” Leaving out the atypical Hist-based strand I’d encountered. Too different. I turned to Divayth. “You?”</p><p>“A few,” he said (of course), “but it’s good to stay wary of them and their respective Princes. Which one is it? In this hypothetical case.”</p><p>“Clavicus Vile,” she said, “I mean, in theory, it would be Clavicus Vile.”</p><p>“That’s not too bad,” I said. “There are worse with vampires. And friends of ours cooperated with the guy on a thing some time ago.”</p><p>Divayth nodded. “How high up on the food chain are we talking, in this hypothetical scenario?”</p><p>“She’s not….” The lady stopped and started over. “She wouldn’t be an ancient one or anything. But close to the leadership.”</p><p>Divayth showed a brief grin. “Ah, we’re used to people of that calibre. So. Does she live around here?”</p><p>“No, but she’s thinking about it.” So the hypothetical scenario was dropped. “She’s been moving here and there, been around High Rock a lot, cause they had a lot of tolerance for vampirism, or at least you could do your thing and be left alone, but for a while now it’s been getting worse and worse with infected blood and bloodfiends and who knows what, and nobody needs that. So she’s been getting malnourished, and she’s looking for replacements. If you’ve got something… Would you sell something to me and I’ll bring it over? And if she moves here, can she visit?”</p><p>I looked to Divayth.</p><p>“Works for me,” he said, “if it works for you.”</p><p>“You think she’d be willing to take part in some tests?” I asked.</p><p>The lady snorted. “She might. She keeps company with Clavicus Vile, she’s fine with risks.”</p><p>“Please,” I said, “I’m entirely trustworthy.”</p><p>She snorted and grinned and emptied her cup.</p><p>“One condition,” Divayth said. “We don’t make any deals or bargains with Vile. The small amount that we can spare, she gets for free. A gift, no demands or reciprocation. If she takes part in Lothryn’s research, that’s also a free favour with no demands nor reciprocation.”</p><p>She beamed. “Thanks so much, you two. She’s become a friend, so that’s a relief.” She turned to Divayth. “We’ve heard a few things about you in the meantime, and you two are normally on the same page anyway, so I figured I could bring up the Daedric connection. Not always easy.”</p><p>“Of course not,” he said, “people are small-minded fools for the most part. Where did you meet her anyway? On the job?”</p><p>“Yeah,” she said, “in Rivenspire. We got a sacrament cause someone there kept turning the few reliable healthy thralls into vampires, some liberation rhetoric and ‘stop being prey and be the predators yourselves’, that sort of thing. The local vampire communities were upset. She didn’t perform he sacrament, but she was part of this local interest group that supported it, so we got to talking.”</p><p>“Vampire interest groups, huh,” I said. “And thrall interest groups. You keep learning about new things. You know, they should consider approaching the readers of the Raven of Midnight series. Might find some volunteers there.”</p><p>She grinned. “That’s what happened for a while. The new government banned them as a pragmatic measure.”</p><p>“Finally someone with sense,” I said. “Too late for the people of Abah’s Landing.”</p><p> </p><p>We went on talking about this and that. It’s early morning now. Sadis my wolf woke me up cause he had to go outside and was hungry to that.</p><p>Divayth is still sleeping, and I suppose so are the guests in their room upstairs. (We might as well turn it into a proper guest room instead of an overnight patients’ room. It’s not exactly inviting like this.)</p><p>While I’m writing, I’m brewing some samples of the vampire potion, and something for the headache. For the latter I’ll play it safe and make enough for four.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Interlude: A new tenant</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>So the vampire showed up in our lighthouse tower.</p><p>Am I still naïve and thinking small, even after all I’ve been through and all I’ve learned? But no, this one made even Divayth stop in his motions.</p><p>Normally, when someone says someone else ‘keeps company with’ a Daedric Prince, you’d take it for a flippant euphemism for ‘being a cultist of’ said Prince. You do not expect the Daedric Prince to show up in your home bringing the person over and lecturing you on the do’s and don’ts and beginning to set up a mutually binding contract for the duration of the stay. Nor do you expect the Prince to refer to the so-delivered vampire as his wife. Nevertheless, that’s what happened.</p><p>I don’t know why I’m surprised at anything anymore, I really don’t.</p><p>And so Clavicus Vile and his very much favourite vampire Melima Aemilia were introduced, and so were we, and she asked for asylum for a while since Rivenspire had very much ceased to be a functional dwelling place and Clavicus had business to attend to.</p><p> </p><p>After the initial show of surprise, Divayth caught his composure and reiterated his claim he’d made to Tedare, that everything we’d offer was a gift and there was to be no reciprocation nor any kind of deal.</p><p>Clavicus Vile looked cross at that, as if Divayth had just spoiled his game, and he probably had. But the next moment he agreed and said there’d still be demands because this was his wife and she was not to be harmed or endangered nor go hungry. And she was also strictly off-limits. “But then I don’t have to worry about that here, do I?”</p><p>“No,” I said, “nothing to worry about; we’ve got our own oaths.”</p><p>“How do you know we do?” he asked.</p><p>He has a way of keeping you on your toes, but at the same time you fall into a certain ease of talking to him that other Princes I’ve encountered don’t exactly compare to. “You? You can’t tell me you’d get married without serious oaths.”</p><p>He shrugged. “My reputation precedes me. Well, you’re right.” And then the casual air dropped for a moment, and he squinted at me. “You seem familiar. I know him, of course,” he pointed at Divayth, “good job catching that one by the way… But who are you? You’re <em>somebody</em>.”</p><p>“Well, that’s nice of you to affirm,” I said.</p><p>He kept looking at me. “You know, don’t you?”</p><p>I decided to start this association in a friendly enough way and give a little. Just a little. “I don’t think I’ve got license to tell. For all intents and purposes, I’m a hedge mage.”</p><p>A grin spread on his face. “I got you. Well, I’ll figure it out. So. You got more of that potion?”</p><p>“Of course we do. Best recipe for both vampires and mortals with bad decision-making skills.” I peered at Melima. “You’ve had the old version delivered; this is the fresh variant. More potent, but spoils easily, so not made for transport. You drink things with Daedra heart as an ingredient, or is that too close to home?”</p><p>She snorted. “I’ll have it. I’ve caught one Daedra’s heart, but the ingredient is fine.” She turned to Clavicus. “Right? You’re not offended, are you?”</p><p>“I’m not offended. What else is in?”</p><p>“Nirnroot,” I said, “as a major factor. And a few more. I’d normally keep them secret, but this is you, so there’s little point in it, and I want friendly relations.”</p><p>“Nirnroot is good,” Clavicus said.</p><p>I gave him the full list after all. “You know her strand better than anyone, I figure. Any issues with anything?”</p><p>“No, that’s perfect. Where’d you pick that up? Cyrodiil?”</p><p>“Morrowind,” I said. “Divayth brought it, and I just tinkered with it a bit. Makes you feel less like dying now.”</p><p>Melima raised her eyebrows. “Appreciated.”</p><p>“Right?”</p><p>“You’ve taken it?” she asked.</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“Really?”</p><p>“You’ve got to test some things yourself to have a clue.”</p><p>She grinned. “Right. Well, that makes me a little optimistic. I’ll try your Daedra heart potion then.”</p><p> </p><p>Worked without an issue, and she and Clavicus stayed for more standard drinks and talk, and you really forget with him who you’re facing on and off, which is more than a little dangerous, but a nice change from Princes like Mora, with whom you definitely never forget at any moment.</p><p>Now Melima has the guest room upstairs that we’d just gotten into a tolerable state, too, and Clavicus will be over once in a while.</p><p>This was not what we’d intended for our quiet research travels abroad and in obscurity.</p><p>I mentioned something of the kind. Melima said not to worry; she was interested in obscurity, too, and wanted her name forgotten for the next decades or so.</p><p>I told her the Daedric Prince husband counteracts that just a bit for all of us.</p><p>She wouldn’t let that argument stand, though. “No better place to slip into obscurity than at the side of someone famous. Look at you. Whoever you are.”</p><p>I had to concede the point.</p><p> </p><p>And so here we are. For what just entered our life, this was surprisingly uneventful.</p><p>The vampire is easily taken care of because say about Clavicus Vile what you will, he does know how to make viable vampiric strands people can actually live with without major bother. And she’s easy to get along with, too.</p><p>It’s probably highly inappropriate to say, but I’m somewhat bored with research these days. I wish there was an interesting case. Some kind of challenge. (I won’t wish that aloud in her presence or the presence of her associate, though. You never know.)</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Preliminary theory on different kinds of blade wounds</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Yeah I got permission to use names, having been declared trustworthy enough, which makes these notes a whole lot less of a pain to write.</p><p>So, having been presented with a good number of different wounds caused by knives, daggers, other short blades, of different shapes and materials, with and without the involvement of more or less original poisons, there are a few differences I’ve noticed. And especially when it comes to patching them up with magic, and what works and what not. It appears that for otherwise entirely non-magical wounds of this kinds but inflicted by those with some magical talent, there appears to be a magic of the intent involved, which influences the future behaviour. Note: Invite Elam and Tedare over for a set of non-magical and magical kind who know their way around their knives and can be trusted with this kind of research. They gave me the idea in the first place. One theory I have is that for those magically inclined, the degree of the personal connection to the blade influences the degree of the involvement of intent – conscious or not – in the resulting cut.</p><p>Preliminary experiment set-up:</p><p>2 Dunmer assassins</p><p>Blade materials: (No iron; too crude; I’m a healer and researcher still) / (Steel? Still crude but better. Perhaps particularly refined one.) / Orichalcum (Tedare is proud of her curved dagger of that kind; good for the attachment theory on the higher end of that scale) / –</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Right. This got interrupted, and I forgot what I was going to put.</p><p>Here’s what happened. See, when you invite Clavicus Vile’s vampiric wife into your tower, this draws with it an invitation to not just Clavicus Vile himself staying over whenever he wants, drinking your wine and lecturing you about ale, it also means a factual invitation to Barbas whenever <em>he</em> feels like dropping by.</p><p>This went alright for a while, but today Melima was out, and Barbas was bored, and so he got into some kind of fight with Sulan. I was trying to concentrate and didn’t pay attention at first, but it involved something about Barbas saying Sulan is a lower-ranking Daedra and cut off from his master and realm and why he’s acting like he owns the place, to which Sulan replied that he’s of House Telvanni, and this is his tower, and if Barbas doesn’t like it, he can vacate said tower; then some more from both sides I didn’t understand, and then two Oblivion portals got opened in the living room.</p><p>Divayth and I were sitting upstairs in the work/bar area. Divayth continued to read. Less easily distracted than I am.</p><p>So I leaned over the balustrade and asked them if they intended on closing these again.</p><p>They politely declined as this was an important matter to discuss, inconvenient as this surely was.</p><p>“Divayth,” I said, and he looked up cause he gets distracted by me at least.</p><p>I directed his gaze towards the portals. “Those are your specialty.”</p><p>With a ragged sigh, he got up and slammed the open book onto the bench face-down. “Can’t one read in peace here?”</p><p> </p><p>He closed the portals and gave the two Daedra a talking-to, which mainly revolved around stuff getting damaged, needing one’s peace when working, and an add-on to Sulan: “I told you back then you’ll obey Lothryn same as you do me. This is your tower, too, but when Lothryn wants you to close the portal, you close the portal. Understood?”</p><p>Sulan expressed grumpy consent.</p><p>“The only revision I’ll make about what I said,” Divayth went on, “is that sometimes it’s best to listen to him more than to me; he’s clearly the wiser between us.” Shot me a brief smile.</p><p>I couldn’t help but grin at that. Knows how to melt me; takes the time to do that even when he’s currently annoyed at everything else. Note: Pay back later. (Like that needs a note. But he reads these, and I want him to see.)</p><p>In any case, Sulan relaxed and looked at least a little contrite. Barbas didn’t look contrite, but said, “This is just like home. Whatever they decide is home at the time anyway.” Then he jumped on a rocking chair, got comfortable, and closed his eyes. Opened one eye again. “Hey, can anyone of you make the fire bigger? It’s getting cold.”</p><p>Sulan reminded Barbas that he was the big important Daedra here.</p><p>Barbas reminded Sulan that this was his tower.</p><p>I cast a spell and made the fire bigger. He was right; it was getting cold.</p><p> </p><p>Now. Back to the knives. I got all distracted, where was I… A matching dagger for emotional connection for Elam… No, I was still at materials –</p><p> </p><p>Divayth is reading again. Sulan came floating up to us and positioned himself in front of me, a bit to the side, looking somewhat contrite still. Hovering there in space.</p><p>I raised an eyebrow.</p><p>He hovered expectantly and looked at me with his assorted eyes all wide. I think he copied that trick from Barbas. That’s a puppy look. Compliments to him for pulling that off as a Watcher.</p><p>I reached over and pet his tentacles. Went right for the stabby ones; apology / peace offering accepted.</p><p>He wrapped a tentacle around my right arm with some content noises, and there he stayed. Made it hard to write. But this is important, too.</p><p>Eventually I asked, “You want to switch arms?”</p><p>He moved over, and now he’s attached to my left arm, and I can write. In theory.</p><p> </p><p>Again. Metals.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Nords are right to be wary of milk-drinkers</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It started, as these things sometimes do, with a common enough visit. Not by the patient himself, but by his wife, Tremmina Calocata from the general shop in Anvil, down by the coast, the cheap one popular with the dock workers.</p><p>“I knew Nords drink a lot,” she started, and from there the problem was obvious. Or so I thought.</p><p>Her husband Kraonek had given up the seafaring life for her but was still popular with the dock workers, and still drank with them several nights a week. One could say, he used the opportunities he didn’t use to have at sea. But it was getting a bit much. And he was loving the drinks a bit much, and getting less and less willing to part with them.</p><p>“I know you’re not a miracle worker, and you can’t make my husband change his behaviour,” Tremmina said.</p><p>“I mean, I possibly could, in some ways, but that’s not the kind of magic you want for your family.”</p><p>She set her jaw. “Good. You’re actually a competent sort then. No, we don’t need that kind of magic, but I’m tired of priests droning on about understanding. And even worse, the weak talk of the herbalists in town, that he has to find his ‘inner balance’” – she almost spat that word – “and would you believe, one of them suggested he replace the drinks with milk as a habit. Milk. A Nord!”</p><p>“Bad idea.”</p><p>“Exactly! I told him, and we had a good laugh about it – at least we can still laugh. But I’m glad I’m dealing with a professional here.”</p><p>“Ah, depends on your perspective. Well let’s see. So you talked about it, did you? Does he see there’s a problem? Is he willing to do anything at all? Also, behavioural things are not really my expertise – but what really is?”</p><p>She nodded. “He sees it. He’ll say he wants to get better, and he’ll stay in a night, and then he gets out the ale from the basement instead.”</p><p>“Right. I can brew you something that can serve as a replacement for the moment. It’s got side effects; I need to work on the formula, but when he wants to drink his usual, have him drink this instead, and it should tie up his attention for a while. If he keeps that up, the symptoms will get worse over time, and for that I’ll brew you something else, to help keep those… well, at least tolerable. Sort of. I need some ingredients for that that I don’t have. If you come back in two weeks, I should have the first batch, weak still, but it’s good to get started early.”</p><p>She looked like a weight fell off her shoulder. Sometimes it is like that, just at a glimpse of some kind of hope. “Thank you. Let’s do that.” She looked around, her eyes getting shrewd. “By the way. If the ingredients you need are based in Oblivion, I may be able to help you with a few. We have a supplier for our shop… Most of his goods are ordinary enough, but he has some sources…”</p><p>“Oh really? That could help.”</p><p>I named her a few items, two of which she said she could get and would deliver to me. “Anything else?” she asked. “While we’re at it? There’s never a bad time for a new business relationship.”</p><p>I grinned. “Right. Well, I make this potion for a few clients, one who needs it in particular,” talking about Melima’s blood replacement of course, which also served the assassins well when things went wrong on the job, “and it’s efficient, but the downside is that it needs Nirnroot and Daedra hearts. We can talk openly, right? We’re both practical people here.”</p><p>“Oh yes, that’s why I came here in the first place. I don’t know about the Daedra hearts… Perhaps. Oh! Can it be <em>any</em> Daedra, or does it have to be… You know, the tall talking ones?”</p><p>“That’s an interesting question,” I said. “It depends. Lesser Daedra work less well on men and mer, but I can work with it. And there’s an interesting kind of Nirnroot that grows in Coldharbour, apparently originating from Cyrodiil, and then via a detour caused by Meridia…” I made a vague gesture. “Some kind of mess I’ve been told of. Once in a while, I can get my hands on that, and it helps me need less of the Daedra hearts, probably thanks to its particular attunement to different planes. If I could get that, then lesser Daedra hearts could work better in conjunction.”</p><p>Her eyes lit up. “Oh, I know just what you’re talking about. You see, my supplier has… spent some time in the Hollow City. Perhaps his contacts can procure that. I’ll ask.”</p><p> </p><p>I made her the first brew, told Divayth about the developments, and we set to get ingredients anyway the usual way just in case this new avenue failed. Since she didn’t visit again after that, I figured that was the case, so I brewed the second potion without her aid. Not a problem. I was actually fairly optimistic about this case, which is always a mistake.</p><p> </p><p>After the agreed-upon two weeks, Tremmina came in with her husband Kraonek looking pale and lined as I’d never seen him, blood-shot eyes, body going through constant tremors.</p><p>“Was something off about the potion?” was my first thought. “Always tell me immediately so I can fix it.”</p><p>But she explained. “Oh no, oh no, it’s not your potion. We still have most of that. No. Remember I told you about that idiot herbalist who told him to drink milk instead?”</p><p>I frowned. “I’m not a great friend of milk myself, but…”</p><p>“Well, see, I had thought about what you’d said about the ingredients from Oblivion and their special property. And when I went to see our contact… Well, he also sells milk. Normally we get the milk we sell from the cows on Kolvia’s farm; she wouldn’t forgive us if we turned to another supplier. But he sells goat milk. Now this idiot,” she rapped Kraonek’s head with her knuckles, “well I have myself to blame, too. But he drank the milk. He actually hasn’t touched any more spirits after he started that. But he can’t get enough of that stupid goat’s milk, and all the while he’s been looking worse and worse, and now he’s trembling all the time – at first I thought he had a fever, and I wanted to make him chicken soup, but he just kept asking for goat’s milk – and so I’ve dragged him here. Can you look at him?” She took a deep breath. Sounded as if that hadn’t been easy to get out. Who likes to admit to mistakes?</p><p>“Alright,” I said, and started the usual detection spells to rule out this and that. Nothing mundane wrong with him, but there <em>was</em> a Daedric undercurrent to be detected. I turned to her and explained. Then I asked, “So you were talking about ingredients from Oblivion. But goat’s milk? What kind of…”</p><p>“Well,” she fidgeted, cracked her knuckles, looked aside. Then she looked straight at me. “He has a farm. Hidden away in the hill sides. It’s a secret tip for those of us who are no moralists about where our goods come from, and who like to supply our customers with odds and ends that are a bit… different.”</p><p>“I understand that,” I started, “we’ve got our own suppliers of the sort, after all – but a farm, you say?”</p><p>“There are plants and such, like the herbs you mentioned… I’m sorry I didn’t bring you any, I didn’t think we would need the potion anymore, and then I forgot about the other matter in the excitement that followed…”</p><p>“Don’t worry about that,” I said, “your husband is ill. That’s first.”</p><p>She nodded. “Thank you. In any case, there are also these goats…” She seemed to have difficulty explaining and finally said, “Should I just take you there? You can see for yourself. Maybe that’s for the best.”</p><p>“Is that alright? That being your supplier and all.”</p><p>“Oh, I’m done with him if his goods made my husband sick. Besides. This has to come first, as you said.”</p><p>I didn’t like the thought of leaving a Daedric-influenced addict to <em>something</em> home with Melima. Clavicus and Barbas were both out on business, or else maybe they could have shone some light on this matter earlier, but Divayth agreed to keep an eye on him, and so Kraonek was stowed into the new patient’s room we’d cleared out after Melima had taken over the old one and turned it into her living quarters.</p><p>(Side note: I feel bad for how often Divayth gets roped into helping with my bizarre patients. One of these days I’ll suggest we consider new places with more to do for both of us; it’s been my turn for quite some time now, and I think it’s time for his interests to come first again for a while. But then, I’m also starting to see hints of interest with him for some of these matters. I wonder if that’s going to develop further. The possibilities if it did… But that’s for another day.)</p><p> </p><p>So, the farm.</p><p>The farm was surprisingly close to Anvil for how hidden it was. It looked fairly normal at first glance, except for the plants having a different kind of sheen to them. If you’ve seen it in the right context, you can recognise it.</p><p>There were goats that looked normal enough, and there were chickens, and there it became obvious that these weren’t normal. The flaming eyes gave them away.</p><p>Tremmina then introduced me to the farmer. A tall rugged-looking fellow by the name of Thzkttt. He’s a traditionalist and doesn’t write the other letters. A Dremora that had run a small farm in the Hollow City in Coldharbour and had taken the opportunity given to him by the attack from Nirn to move over to Tamriel instead along with many of its residents and refugees.</p><p>Thzkttt listened to the problem and said, “I thought you knew what you’re buying. I need to label this better.”</p><p>“So,” I said, “I’ve got an idea, but what is it that they were buying? The chickens are… Deadlands?”</p><p>“Yeah. Good chickens, too. Have to keep them in small separate groups, and always have to change the groups up, cause they get aggressive and overthrow each other. But the eggs are great for alchemy. Or breakfast. Got these arena fighters come over a few days before important matches.”</p><p>I grinned. “I see the possibilities. I’d like to talk to you about that later. But for now… The goats look fairly normal, but their milk is obviously addictive, and it replaced spirits…” I trailed off thinking.</p><p>The Dremora farmer shifted and placed a hand on his hip in a proud gesture. “What’s your guess? I bet you already know.”</p><p>“Sanguine’s?”</p><p>“Sanguine’s,” he confirmed.</p><p>“Didn’t know he had goats.”</p><p>“There are few things he doesn’t have. He doesn’t like not having things, you know.”</p><p>I nodded. “That makes sense. So why not goats? Right. You know a cure for that?”</p><p>Tremmina interjected, “I’d pay, of course. I know it’d be a loss of revenue, but this is my husband, and I can’t take this any longer, and neither can he…” She wiped some barely visible tears from her eyes.</p><p>Thzkttt sighed. “That’s the problem with mortal customers. Alright. You’re a good business partner normally, so I’ll tell you. Just get a priest to clear it out. Arkay usually works. It’s not complicated. And keep him away from anything addictive after that. Usually Sanguine’s influence has that kind of aftereffect. Once they’ve known it… You know.”</p><p>“I hate the priests in town,” Tremmina grumbled, “and the ones in Kvatch are even worse. Even after the clean-up with all the assassinations.”</p><p>“I think I’ve got this,” I said. “I know someone who knows a priestess of Arkay that’s very unjudgmental.”</p><p>She pressed her lips into a fine line and nodded. “Let’s try your priestess then.”</p><p> </p><p>Once that was decided, the farmer took me aside. “So you’ve got interest in my goods, yeah? I guarantee for quality and source. You an alchemist?”</p><p>“Partly,” I said. “I’m a mage with a Restoration focus. House Telvanni.”</p><p>At that he grinned. “House Telvanni is always a pleasure to work with. You people know your stuff, and you know what consequences are. Low fuss. What do you need?”</p><p>“So for one thing, I’d like the Nirnroot grown in the Hollow City; do you still get that, or has Meridia cut off all your contacts out of vexation?”</p><p>He grinned. “I know a conjurer there who sends things via portal sometimes, and vice versa. So far we haven’t been stopped. So. Can do.”</p><p>“Excellent. For another, well, I’d thought Daedra hearts, but this is giving me another idea. See, I take care of a vampire and some other people who are prone to severe injury. At least when things go wrong. Sometimes they do. And there’s this potion that helps for all of those cases, but it includes bits of Daedra heart. I know, I know. But let’s both be calm and realistic here.”</p><p>He snorted. “Dremora don’t care about such mortal sentimentality. I could supply those. But go on.”</p><p>“Alright,” I said, “thanks for not making this complicated. So I need a steady supply of the stuff at home. But… The thing is, I generally don’t eat meat. I make exceptions for potions cause my health and life come first, and I make exceptions for the life and health of my people and my clients. But if I could mess around with the formula and get around that, that would be ideal. Now you have Daedric chickens and goats. And they produce eggs and milk with Daedric properties, as we’ve seen. I think I’ll forego the milk; nothing good ever comes from involving oneself with Sanguine, though I’m sure those goats are excellent…”</p><p>“I sell the cheese to spoiled nobles. Put a ridiculous price tag on it, give them tiny quantities, and they keep coming back for it. That’s what keeps the whole farm running, to be honest; your few town merchants and their herbs don’t cut it.”</p><p>I laughed. “I can see that. Better treat those goats well then, huh.”</p><p>“Oh you bet, they’re more spoiled than the old governess over in Anvil. Anyway, you deal with different sorts, huh? No milk. Sensible, if you ask me.”</p><p>I nodded. “The eggs, though. Realistically, how bad are they for the aggression? My typical clients need to keep a cool head even when… in attack sorts of situations.”</p><p>“It’s not too bad. For Dagon’s chickens, these are pretty docile. Got them from a breeder who was overtaxed with them, but you show them some discipline and keep their revolutions in check, you’re fine. Try different formulas. For the most part, the hearts are worse, though some properties are different.”</p><p>“I’d like to try that,” I decided, and so we struck a preliminary deal.</p><p> </p><p>We got home, and the patient had been subdued along with part of the Daedric influence, courtesy of Divayth. </p><p>I explained the issue, and Kraonek agreed to talk to “our” priestess.</p><p>I said she was currently in Skyrim.</p><p>That made him trust her more immediately. I mentioned she was a Breton, which dampened his enthusiasm a bit, but her choice of Skyrim as her new home made her ‘one of the good ones’, and so she was still acceptable.</p><p>I cautiously left out the part where she was also a Cyrodilic vampire turned by Melima.</p><p>“I suppose you’ll need a portal,” said Divayth with an ironic smile around his lips that made it impossible not to kiss him; there’s a limit to how professional one should be, after all.</p><p>Melima spoke up: “Don’t bring him to Solitude right now; I hear there’s trouble there. Get her over here. Get both of them over here, maybe you can use an alchemist. Besides, he’s been dying to meet you both.”</p><p>Divayth made a show of disapproval for unnecessary social visits, but he’s weak to flattery and so agreed to bring Melima’s friend Nanacie and her equally vampiric lover over for now.</p><p>They’ve both gotten good at concealing their natures, and so our clients didn’t suspect anything as far as I could tell.</p><p>Nanacie, who is primarily attending the Bard College but also got the rites as a priestess of Arkay sometime in the past, played her role convincingly, and according to Melima she’s genuine about her faith, and so she succeeded at dispelling Sanguine’s nonsense without any trouble.</p><p>“Very convenient to have around,” I commented.</p><p>Divayth agreed. Neither of us had to add, ‘especially with the kind of magic we get up to sometimes’.</p><p> </p><p>Kraonek’s condition improved visibly, and he promised to listen to his wife and the rules for his condition from now on. He’ll fail sometimes, so I gave them some potions just in case, and for a while at least we’ll be here, too.</p><p>And so that ended better than could be expected.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. p.s. Some more notes on recent developments</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>My new formula is coming along very well. Deadlands chicken eggs seem the perfect compromise once I’ve got the details figured out. I hope never to have to work with Daedra hearts again, ideally. And if we leave, or rather when we eventually leave, I’ll have to ask Thzkttt for some chicks and very detailed raising and keeping instructions.</p><p> </p><p>Nanacie and Fennorian told us of severe trouble in Western Skyrim, and they’re getting nervous to stay there, though on the other hand Nanacie wants to continue her education, and Fennorian wants to investigate. So I’m having them stay over for a while until I’ve got the new formula, and I’m supplying them with potions. Least I can do. They also wish someone would take care of the issues, but apparently nobody wants to. Eastern Skyrim is asking around in its hero reserves, but it’s an unpopular task, and most of its heroes are Pact war criminals; not popular in the west. My apprentice would be one of those. I’ll have to ask her what’s up with that situation.</p><p> </p><p>Clavicus is getting fussy about Melima being a vampire in the current situation; their strand should apparently be immune, but there’s never certainty. So he is considering turning her Daedric already to match himself, and I’m rather certain that’s going to happen; of course just when I’m getting a new formula to replace the blood.</p><p> </p><p>Nanacie and Fennorian got the same offer, but are still thinking on it. Nanacie’s been getting into Skyrim’s heroic epic culture and said, almost like a secret, “I’ve been wondering about Sovngarde, actually.”</p><p>Clavicus just rolled his eyes.</p><p>They’ll think about it.</p><p> </p><p>I suggested to Divayth that we could find something new to do that he was interested in.</p><p>He was appreciative, but also gave me that smile of his at some point and said, “You know, I’m starting to enjoy these cases. Wherever we go, I’d like a bigger role in this, unless you want this to be your own project.”</p><p>It’s good for Telvanni wizards to pay courtesy respect to each other’s professional egos. But that’s enough. I said, “I want everything of mine to be as closely involved with you as possible. I thought I saw the hints of interest with you, and I was hoping for this. So welcome in my field, if you want.”</p><p>“A very good answer,” he muttered, and kept the touched expression to his eyes, still visible enough.</p><p> </p><p>When we brought it up to Melima, who would be coming with us, she immediately said, “The Alik’r Desert.”</p><p>“Not again,” said both of us, remembering Abah’s Landing.</p><p>“My mother loved it there; I’ve always wanted to see it. A quiet place? Just for a bit? And maybe they’ll need help in Skyrim sooner or later anyway.”</p><p>“I’ll be keeping that help to potions,” I said, “I need to lie low; I can’t get involved with politics and High Kings. Alik’r Desert, huh.” Hard to say no to her; even harder when she’s invoking her dead mother. An unfair negotiating manoeuvre, really, but what can you expect if Clavicus chose her?</p><p>We conferred some more on possibilities and details, and I let Divayth speak the verdict.</p><p>“If you manage to keep us out of Nord business,” he said, “I’ve got no issue with the desert for a while. But not forever. I can’t stand their brand of superstition and halting of any kind of progress.”</p><p>Melima grinned. “That’s why it’s the best hiding spot. Just for a while.”</p><p>So that’ll be it. Just for a while.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>